Category Archives: Uncategorized

bag life (NPM2017 16)

Posted on April 24, 2017 by

  what do homeless people carry in their bags the bags in carts on bikes over weary shoulders the bags that mark them as without outside unhoused wanders carrying their lives in bags do they carry their important papers do … Continue reading →

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brick house sunrise

Posted on April 9, 2017 by

open the curtains in the brick house let the light spill in peeling back the dark illuminating broken things scattered like litter on the side of life the broken dolls games that glitch the only for this side of town … Continue reading →

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first language (NPM2017 # 7)

Posted on April 8, 2017 by

one dreams in first language it is the language of prayer first language is where your soul lives where home is when it’s raining fire it’s where we land after falling through the ground we grow from the cathedral that … Continue reading →

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triggers (NPM2017 # 6)

Posted on April 6, 2017 by

i am from the school of small axes of the days when the most violent write the letter of the law the law often a faithless mistress combines to chalk line my boundaries forgetting who pushed who first or legitimizing it … Continue reading →

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in the beginning (NPM2017 # 1)

Posted on April 2, 2017 by

in the beginning before the day wakes up i am whole dreaming the world as it should be i fly in my dreams i can see in dreams the dead whisper in dreams i listen they have let go of … Continue reading →

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this poem: 2o17

Posted on March 14, 2017 by

this poem is the product of a sharp no.2 black keeps remixing itself refuses to die learned of neccesity to multiply this poem wants air wants to breathe deep for those who cant wants wings so it can fly over … Continue reading →

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a final dream of flight

Posted on March 7, 2017 by

Originally posted on A.Nzinga's Blog:
i have a pen i have written my own story i read yours it was narrow sad predictable on so many levels it did not predict my flight i wrote it over the…

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queen of the brick house

Posted on January 24, 2017 by

(For Fran) queens don’t always have crowns some scrub floors and wash dishes some walk to work in the rain some have hands that show the ways of their days hard work and waiting for the seeds planted to come … Continue reading →

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underwater

Posted on January 22, 2017 by

the water is rising in the brick house having led many horses to water and watching them die of thirst in the brick house we have learned to outlast the rain we tread water we can’t dance upon baptize ourselves … Continue reading →

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Happy Cul-du-Sac: A personal deconstruction of North American holidays.

Posted on December 26, 2016 by

I killed Christmas over a decade ago. I wrote a piece called Xmas. It detailed my knowing surrounding the holiday practically invented by Coca Cola. I talked about old west Christmases where they got drunk and shot up the town … Continue reading →

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